It's Your Lead
by VikingsDoItBetter
Summary: Up until now, I thought our dance was just a metaphor.
1. It's Your Lead

Title: It's Your Lead

Author: AlexCabotIsQueen

Summary: I always thought "our dance" was just a metaphor.

Bobby POV

I always liked dancing. Even when I was a teenager. I remember learning different styles. Just hoping that I would have something that was desirable. After all, those guys in the movies that danced got the girl. Maybe it would work for me.

I think I was just using it as an excuse to get close to a girl I really liked. Without her being uncomfortable with it. Most of the time, I just got a few moments and that was it. But as I got older, I perfected my charm and my technique and got more than just a few moments. No woman can resist a man that can dance.

Or at least that's been my experience. It's been a long accepted theory that a man that could dance would be an excellent lover because he knew how to control his own body. I don't know about all that. But I've never gotten any complaints.

But as of late. I really. Haven't had much time for anyone. Between work and my mother. It wouldn't be hardly fair to any woman to be attached to me right now. So, I'm lonely. I really hate being alone. So, tonight. I decided I would go out. Little place I know. Great drinks, and I can watch the people dance.

I love to watch people anyway. The volumes we speak without saying a word. It's very intriguing to me. To watch people dance. The dynamic between them. And they way they position themselves with their partners. Well, let's just say it's a wonderful exercise in reading body language.

I sit in my own little darkened corner. Watching. Lost in thought. About all the darkness I see everyday. And how. I long for someone to brighten my darkest moments...Be careful what you wish for...

I hadn't seen her yet, but I knew she was in the room. I could feel her. I didn't need for her to wave hello to know it. We're connected. This. This thing between us. It allows for this knowing.

And then. There she was. Our eyes met. That devilish grin of hers. She strode over to me, her glass of sherry in hand.

"Hello Bobby." The very voice that haunts my every waking nightmare. Those cold eyes that burn into your soul.

"Nicole Wallace. Why is it everywhere I go, there you are?"

"Are you suggesting that I'm following you? That's a bit paranoid even for you. Listen, I just wanted to say that I heard about your poor mother. That's terrible what they did to her."

I'm quickly losing patience with her. Like she has _any_ right at all to discuss my mother with me.Why is she even here in front of me? What could she possibly want. Other than to ruin my night...

"I wanted to let you know, darling. I would never. Attempt something like that. I know what's off limits."

"Good to hear it. What do you want Nicole?"

"Bobby, you would think that I would have an ulterior motive speaking with you. Two people that are involved like we are..."

"We. Are _not_ involved. You are..."

"The one that got away. That always gets away. That can get under your skin. What bothers you is that no matter how hard you try...I'm still here. And I'm still in the back of your mind."

I hate that she's right. But she knows it. She wouldn't offer that kind of statement if she didn't believe it was true. Nicole might be a liar, but she speaks the truth. Her reality and fantasy often exist on the same plane.

She smiles and takes a sip of her sherry. Never taking her eyes off of me.

"You know you're right don't you, Nicole? You know that you frustrate me and you. Came over here to rub it in my face. Haven't you had enough of that? Last time, that really. Blew up in your face didn't it?"

"Well, I still escaped. A little worse for the ware, but here I am. A free citizen."

"For the moment."

She reaches out and strokes my hand, "You know, love. I have missed our little chats. I missed you."

"That's so touching." In that weird uncle sort of way.

"I'm being serious Bobby. I just wanted to be close to you. For a moment."

"Everyone close to you dies Nicole. That's what you do to people. You. Destroy them."

Almost on cue, the music switches to a tango. Like I was trapped in some weird musical. But I knew this one way that I could get the jump on her. Up until this point, I had thought our dance was purely a metaphor...So, I stand.

"Do you know how to tango?"

"Forbidden dance...Of course I do. And I would love to."


	2. Feel Like Going Insane

I lead her onto the floor. And I take her hand and we begin this dance. I never thought it would feel this good to have a killer this close to me. I don't think there was any light between us, let alone air. To my surprise, Nicole is a great dancer. Which again brings me to the point about. Being a good lover and a good dancer. I wonder...

That's what she does. Her MO. Seduce and destroy. She must be amazing to have so many drawn in. So many fooled. So many dead.

But here I am. Hand in hand with her. Watching her movement. She is. I would dare say, very seductive with her movements. It's like she's trying to cast a spell over me, with each sway of her hips. Each glance over her shoulder.

"So. My darling, what do you know about the tango itself?"

"Well. Most believe that it was a dance to tell the story of a prostitute and her pimp. Used to illustrate their forbidden desires for each other. His jealousy. Her own agenda. But it always is about love."

"I guess that makes me the prostitute then...But don't worry. You can have a freebie."

That little statement threw me off guard enough for her break off from me and take some random partner. I watched her with him. She went through the motions and I must admit. I did feel a twinge of jealousy.

She laughed with delight. She must have noticed it. But she always comes back to me. After it all.

"I'm sorry, love. Just wanted test a theory."

I pull her even tighter to me, "Alright Nicole. If you want to play games with me..."

"Yes. Yes. I know the rules."

"Glad you remember. So, why are you here?"

I think she was trying to distract me because she stretched her leg to my shoulder, "Just wanted to let you know that I've been a good girl."

I notice that people are clearing off the floor, making room for us. They're watching us. To them, we must look like old lovers. Sharing one last dance.

I take her leg off my shoulder and spin her so she faces forward.

"Don't tell me. You've just sat at home."

She turns to face me, engaging me with those eyes, "Actually I have. Been catching up on some reading. Can't very well have people believe that I was once a professor of English literature if I'm not well read."

"Always about appearances isn't it?"

"With me? Of course it is."

That smug look on her face. I know she's preparing to strike. But I'll bite, "So, what have you been. Reading?"

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

Of course you have, "And you've discovered what...That I..."

"Am a modern day Sherlock Holmes...Without the drug habit. But you're attention to detail. Your unrelenting pursuit of evil."

"We've discussed this before, Nicole. Evil, like yourself, is unrelenting in its pursuits."

"Touche, Bobby."

During this little chat, I've noticed that we are now alone. Every eye in the room is on us. Waiting for the next chapter in this story we're playing out. Whispering. Wondering how we are connected. If we've been lovers, or if we've been more. Little do they know she's like a dark spot on my very soul. And I'm sure she knows I've marked hers as well.

She wraps a leg around my waist. I feel as if I'm being strangled.

"So, if I'm Holmles...A great deductive mind. I would need a nemesis. I would need a great mind to challenge me. I would need Moriarty. And that's you. Right Nicole?"

That laugh. Probably a rare carefree moment for her, "Of course not! He was the very embodiment of cruelty and evil."

She tries to take the lead again. I push her away from me. She almost crawls back to me and entangles her fingers in mine. Allowing me to gently lead her again.

"Have you read _Scandal in Bohemia_ ?"

Is she actually suggesting... "Yes. Once or Twice."

"Then you already know who I am."

"You. Irene Adler. Nicole. Please, even you can't believe that. She was only trying to protect herself. You've done. WAY more than that."

She is actually quiet for a moment. But I can see her carefully choosing her words. That's one strength that she posses. She can always say the right thing. But even in her break to gather her thoughts, this dance goes on.

"I've always just protecting myself Bobby. You know that."

"From what. Exactly? The truth. What your father did..."

"No. That never happened."

"Or the fact you've killed at least a dozen people."

"NEVER! I never KILLED anyone."

The fire behind her eyes in undeniable. I definitely know her panic button. She can never admit the truth to herself. Which is the reason she will never change. Instead of healing. She will only continue to mask the pain. Mask the shame. The guilt.

"So, by saying that you were just protecting yourself...Killing these people. Was it because you were afraid they were going to hurt you?"

"Nice try, Detective."

"Or that they would know the truth? No one likes damaged goods."

"I did not take your invitation to be insulted, Bobby."

"Of course not. You just didn't want anyone to turn on you."

"Exactly."

"Well. My position on you will never change."

"My point exactly. Just as Irene would always be "the woman" for Holmes, I will always be "the woman" for you."

The music ends and she gently places a kiss on my cheek. Then she smiles, "Until we meet again, Bobby...And I promise you we will."

"I have no doubts."

There's that smile again. I had her back her sherry. She takes it, lingering a bit too long when her hand touches mine. But as soon as she catches herself, she walks away.

I watch her the rest of the night from my darkened corner. I watch her make nice to some young man at the bar. He looks like he's already heart-broken and she seems to be promising to heal that broken heart. They fawn over each other, until she obviously suggests that they go somewhere else.

She makes it a point to walk past me. She gives a little wave good bye and they disappear into the night.

And I can't help but think I've seen that young man before...And then I realize that I had. He was a journalist and a very popular one at that.

Of course, the next thought that crosses my mind is...Will I be investigating his murder tomorrow?


End file.
